


Two Headed Boy

by Thelonelycoast



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Incest, Multi, One-Shot, Other, Smut, Styles Twins - Freeform, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelonelycoast/pseuds/Thelonelycoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternately, The One In Which Louis Doesn't Know There Are Two of Them.</p><p>The first time, Harry forgot his keys.  The second time, Louis lost his mind.  The third time, Harry made tacos.  The fourth time, Ed kissed Louis for the third time and Harry kissed him for the second time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Headed Boy

**Two Headed Boy**  
  
 _Two headed boy - all floating in glass. The sun it has passed; now it's blacker than black. I can hear as you tap on your jar - I am listening to hear where you are.  Two-headed boy - put on Sunday shoes and dance ‘round the room to accordion keys, with the needle that sings in your heart, catching signals that sound in the dark…And in the dark, we will take off our clothes and they'll be placing fingers through the notches in your spine_ \- **Two-Headed Boy, Neutral Milk Hotel**

***  
  
The first time Harry forgot his keys.  Louis had just gotten settled on the couch, situated between two throw pillows and tucked under an afghan, the remote in his right hand and a cup of tea in his left, when he heard the knock.  He let out a harassed groan, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and sending out a silent prayer to the Gods that whoever it was would catch a hint and go away.  When the knocking persisted, Louis kicked himself free of his nest, hitched up his sagging sweatpants and trudged toward the door, trailing his blanket behind him.  
  
Harry was standing on the front stoop, cheeks flushed bright from the cold, a sheepish grin on his face.  “Lost my keys,” he explained, pushing past Louis into their flat.  
  
“You have impeccable timing,” Louis sulked, dragging himself back to the living room.  Harry was already sprawled out on the couch he’d just vacated,  his long legs stretching across three whole cushions.  “D’ya mind?” Louis grumbled, nudging Harry’s legs with his knee.  
  
“Well, you’re in a mood,” Harry laughed, graciously moving his legs aside to allow Louis to duck under them like a drawbridge before flopping his oversized feet into Louis’ lap.  “What are we watching?” he asked, flipping away from the footie game just as the goal-keeper was straining upwards to block a goal.  
  
Louis yelped.  “ _We_ are not watching anything.  _I_ am watching footie,” he said, reaching over to swipe the remote.  Harry stretched it just out of Louis’ reach, smirking.  
  
“What’ll you give me for it?” he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.  
  
“How about this?  If you give it back nicely, I _won’t_ punch you in the balls.”  
  
Harry just laughed, squirming as Louis crawled over him, leaning up for the remote in Harry’s outstretched hand.  “How about a kiss?” Harry asked, a bit breathily when their faces were only inches apart, his eyes locking on Louis’.  
  
Louis froze, his extended arm hovering over Harry’s shoulder.  “Have you gone mental?” he blurted out.  
  
“What?  Afraid you’ll like it?” Harry teased.  
  
Louis sputtered.  “No, I’m not - I just - I’ve got a girlfriend.”  
  
“C’mon,” Harry waggled his eyebrows, tightening his grip on Louis’ hips.  “Or are you chicken?”  
  
“And you’ll give the remote back if I do?” Louis asked, licking his lips as he stared down into Harry’s face.  Louis had to admit, he’d _thought_ about it.  Although he was pretty sure, anyone who had spent more than five minutes around Harry had _thought_ about it.  It was impossible not to.  He was beautiful, sure, but it wasn’t just that - it was like the sun was shining out from under his skin.  It was hard not to feel happy around Harry.    
  
Louis shifted, making the realization that his hips were lined up with Harry’s, suddenly and excruciatingly aware of the heat radiating through Harry’s clothes, of Harry’s dizzyingly green eyes, searching his face.  “Well?” Harry prompted, but the teasing tone was gone, his voice gone low and husky in a way that made Louis’ breath hitch in his throat.  
  
Louis wasn’t one to back down when presented with a dare.  And that’s what this was, right?  Just a little dare between friends.  And besides, Louis _really_ wanted to watch footie.  Or he had only a few moments before, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember the score or even what teams were playing with Harry staring at him like he was - expectantly, his lips red and parted.  Louis leaned down and pressed his mouth chastely to Harry’s.  He hadn’t thought his lips would be so soft - like a girl’s - but also firm and insistent, demanding.  Louis only meant for it to be a peck, but when Harry’s hand slid up and gripped the back of his neck, fingernails digging into his skin, there was no escaping the searing heat of his mouth, his tongue forcing past Louis’.    
  
Louis couldn’t help the sound that escaped him then - halfway between a moan and a sob, muffled by the assertive press of Harry’s mouth on his.  Louis wasn’t sure how long they kissed - only that it seemed both a short eternity and to end in the blink of an eye.  His mind had gone temporarily blank, fuzzy around the edges, like an out-of-focus photograph.  He was only cognizant of  _HarryHarryHarry_ \- Harry tugging resolutely at his hair, Harry’s tongue doing a slow, lazy roll around his own, Harry’s hips doing a quick jackknife up to meet his.    
  
When Harry pulled away at last, Louis was openly panting.  Harry looked absolutely wrecked beneath him - hair slept-on and messy, lips red and bitten.  For a second, Louis just stared at him, seeing Harry as he’d never seen him before.  In that moment, he almost seemed like - well, like an entirely different person.    
  
“Here,” Harry dangled the remote in front of Louis’ face.  “You’ve earned it,” he smirked.  
  
“What?  Oh, right.”  There had been a point to all that kissing, hadn’t there?  It wasn’t just because Louis liked the solid feel of Harry’s body beneath him or the way Harry had pulled him closer by the back of his neck.  Louis took the remote from Harry and rolled back to his corner of the couch, lamenting the loss of Harry’s body heat, the shape of him, his smell.  Louis’ whole body throbbed with need and he had to pinch his thigh to keep from throwing himself back onto Harry.  
  
Harry sprung to his feet, running a brisk hand over his shirt to flatten the wrinkles.  “Right.  Later.”  
  
“Wait - where are you going?” Louis bristled.  
  
“Out.  Thanks for the snog then.”    
  
Before Louis could react Harry was out the door, slamming it behind him just as Louis called out, “Don’t forget your -”  
  
***

 _Keys._   It was mysterious how Harry had lost them and then only a few hours later, in the post-snogging period of their friendship, as Louis had come to think of it, Harry was letting himself into the flat no problem.  Had it all been an elaborate ruse?  If so, why bother?  Turns out, Louis wasn’t so hard to get anyway.  
  
“Can I get a bit of help?” Harry called, struggling under the weight of an armload of shopping.  Louis hurried over, inwardly cringing at the way he reflexively responded to Harry’s demands.  He was just being a nice guy, was all, he wasn’t doing it because he would do anything Harry told him to - up to and including kissing him.  Louis relieved Harry of some of the load and followed him dutifully to the kitchen, where he set the bags down on the counter with an annoyed little huff.  
  
Louis studied Harry as he moved about the kitchen, putting groceries away and humming cheerfully under his breath.  So that’s how he was going to play it.  Cool and oblivious.  “Found your keys then?” Louis asked wryly.  
  
“Hm?”  Harry looked up from where he was chopping up red peppers.  
  
“Your keys?  You forget them earlier.”  
  
Harry’s brow furrowed.  “No I didn’t.”  
  
“Have you had a lapse?” Louis demanded.  
  
Harry snorted.  “Will you stop standing about with that look on your face and make yourself useful?  Hand me that colander, will you?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to the row of gleaming pots hanging over the center island.    
  
“Is that the one with the holes in it?” Louis asked, biting his lip as he scanned them uncertainly.  
  
“You really are helpless, aren’t you?” Harry teased, nudging Louis out of the way with his hip to reach the colander hanging over his head.   _Right, definitely the one with the holes then._   Louis held his breath as Harry brushed against him, fighting the mad impulse to reach out and ruffle his hair.  It was crazy, Louis knew - he’d touched Harry a thousand times before, like it was no big thing, and their faces had been practically welded together earlier, so why was he suddenly so shy, so unsure of everything?  
  
Louis gave an exasperated sigh as Harry returned to his cutting board, lining up a head of broccoli under his knife and separating it from the stalk with a clean snap.  Louis winced.  “Aren’t you even going to say anything?”  
  
“About what?” Harry gave him a puzzled look, pausing in his cutting.  Since when were vegetables so fucking  _interesting_ anyhow?  
  
“You know, I never thought you of all people would be like this,” Louis snapped, storming out of the kitchen.  His grand exit was only slightly undermined by him tripping over an empty grocery bag on the way out.  
  
***  
  
So fine, the kiss had meant nothing to Harry.  Just having a bit of a laugh.  If Harry wanted to pretend it never happened, then Louis could too.  It wasn’t hard, with Harry smiling guilelessly at him across the dinner table, while Louis ate the best goddamn stir fry he’d ever eaten in his life.  But then, _everything_ Harry cooked was the best thing Louis had ever eaten.    
  
In the beginning, when their friendship was still new, Harry had tried to teach him, but Louis wasn’t patient enough - he cooked everything on high heat so it’d be done faster, cut corners using canned or frozen ingredients, nuked things in the microwave whenever he could.  He wasn’t willing to stand about while things simmered and boiled and stewed.  Besides, that’s why he had Harry.  
  
They were both quiet during dinner, but not uncomfortably so.  After dinner, Louis retreated to his room, not bothering to do the washing up as he normally did.  If Harry could drive-by kiss him, then Louis could drive-by dish him, right?  Only fair.  
  
And if Louis sequestered himself in his room for the rest of the night, watching episodes of the Inbetweeners, well, that certainly had _nothing_ to do with Harry.  And if in that time, he thought about the kiss more than once, brought his hand to his mouth wonderingly as if he could still feel the ghosting heat of Harry’s lips there, well it couldn’t be helped.  Not even Buddha himself had been a fucking saint (at least until the Catholics ordained him one in 2005, but that was just getting nit-picky), so how was a mere mortal such as himself supposed to resist Harry Styles’ many, varied charms?  
  
At around eleven, Louis finally turned the telly off, rolling onto his side and stuffing a pillow between his knees.  Who needed Harry anyway?  Louis had a perfectly good body pillow to cuddle with.  And at least his pillow wouldn’t pretend it hadn’t kissed him.    
  
Louis was staring at the opposite wall and replaying the kiss in his mind, coming in at it from different angles like a footie replay, when he heard a tentative knock at his door.  “Yes?”  
  
“Can I come in?” Harry asked timidly.  _Too_ timidly in Louis' opinion, for having nearly sucked his face off a few hours prior.  
  
"Yeah.”  Louis sat up, drawing the blankets to his chest.  Even though Harry had seen him shirtless a ton of times, he felt oddly exposed now, oddly aware of his body in a way he hadn’t been before.  He’d never worried what Harry thought of him before, but suddenly it was _all_ he could think of.  Was he too squishy about the middle?  Should he shave the patchy bit of hair on his chest or did it make him look more manly?  Had he put deodorant on today?  
  
The door slowly opened up slowly onto Louis’ bedroom, the rumpled piles of his dirty laundry coming to life like the sun rising on shadowy, distant mountain-ranges.  Louis really should straighten up.  
  
“Is everything okay with us?” Harry asked, not moving from the doorway.  Silhouetted from the light in the hall, his hair was limned in gold, making him look like an angel who’d just stepped out of a stained glass window.  
  
“‘Course, why wouldn’t it be?” Louis asked, biting the inside of his cheek the way he did when he was trying to suppress a troubling emotion.  
  
Harry bit his lip, darting his eyes away.  A big change from just a few hours before and Louis was enjoying it more than a bit.  “Well, you’ve slept in mine since we moved in.  And it’s just...my bed is awfully big and and it’s awful quiet-”  
  
“If you wanted to sleep in here, all you had to do was say.”  Louis dragged back the covers and Harry gratefully crawled under them, snuggling back into Louis and dropping off to sleep with a contented sigh.  Louis however, was awake for much, much longer.  
  
***  
  
The second time, Louis lost his mind.  
  
A week passed and the kiss hadn’t been mentioned, though they were all so busy none of them could get a second to breathe, let alone snog.  For the most part, Louis had stopped hanging on every word that came out of Harry’s mouth, stopped hoping that Harry would look at him and see whatever he had that day on the couch, but a larger part of him couldn’t _stop_ thinking of it.  He spent a lot of time on the phone with Eleanor, their conversations punctuated by long awkward silences until Eleanor begged off or suddenly “remembered” some errand that needed doing.  Louis was probably ruining their relationship, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to care.  Because...because _Harry_.  
  
They were at a converted warehouse for a photo shoot and had spent most of the morning being primped and fussed over, which was all fine and well with Louis.  Louis appreciated a good primping more than anyone (except possibly Zayn) - he loved the way Lou styled his hair, loved getting to try on expensive clothing, but today these perks only slightly softened the blow of having to see Harry in various states of undress.  For the first half of the shoot, Liam wouldn’t stop teasing Louis about his boner (Louis might have been able to keep a straight face, but his body was acting anything _but_ straight) until Louis hit him in the balls and their manager wearily suggested everyone take a break.  
  
Louis trailed Zayn outside into the alleyway for a smoke - Zayn smoking and Louis lingering around the bins like a bad smell until Zayn was finished (or could no longer stand Louis’ intense glances) and mentioned something about coffee and escaped inside.  Zayn had never been a big talker, so Louis wasn’t exactly sure why he'd chosen Zayn of all people to talk to, or even what he wanted to say.  He just knew he wanted to say _something_.  
  
Louis stayed, not wanting to go back inside and risk seeing Harry (possibly half naked), but this plan didn’t go as well as he’d hoped because Harry came striding up toward him from the street a few minutes later.  
  
“Hey,” Louis said shyly.  Harry slammed Louis back against the side of the brick building so hard his shoulder blades were ringing like a struck bell.  
  
“Harry, what the-” Louis began, but was silenced by Harry’s lips on his mouth, sucking and kissing and biting Louis in submission.  
  
When Harry trailed off down Louis’ neck, he groaned, tightening his grip on Harry’s bicep.  “Should we...should we  _talk_ about this?” Louis choked, his words dissolving into a hiss as Harry sucked a love-bite into the sensitive juncture where his collarbone met his throat.  
  
“No talking,” Harry murmured hotly into his skin.  “Just kissing.”  He descended on Louis’ mouth once more, fisting the front of his jacket to draw him closer.    
  
Louis tried to remember why it was he should stop Harry, tried to recall why he had been mooning about all week like Heathcliff on the moors, but all his thoughts evaporated under the plying heat and pressure of Harry’s mouth.  The weight of Harry’s hands on his waist and his face and his shoulders (how was it he seemed to be everywhere at once?) anchored Louis to the ground like tethers pinning a hot air balloon to the earth.  Because he was sure if Harry let go of him, even for a second, he would float away, weightless and thoughtless and for a moment, so fucking happy.  
  
When Louis was thoroughly wrecked, every ounce of self-respect and self-control obliterated, Harry pulled away, stroking a thumb roughly over his cheekbone.  “Have to go, love.”  
  
“But we have an interview in - ”  Harry’s lips silenced Louis with a final, searching kiss and then he was off down the alleyway toward the street.  Louis just stood there - his back so melded to the wall it must have a brick pattern on it by now,  afraid that if he moved, even an inch, the memory would evaporate and the cold, nagging doubt would creep back in.   _It had happened, hadn’t it?_ This time, he was sure of it.  Not his mind playing tricks.  Not some other bloke that he’d projected Harry’s face upon.  Harry had kissed him.  And Louis, well, Louis had  _liked_ it.  
  
Louis wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but he suspected if it had been much longer, birds would have started to land on his shoulders, mistaking him for a statue.  His boner, at least, managed to deflate a bit and he no longer felt in danger of passing out, so that was something.  He startled when the steel door to the alleyway banged open and Zayn ducked around it.  “Are you still out here mate?  Been looking all over.”  
  
Harry peered over Zayn’s shoulder, his curls looking much more managed than they had only a moment ago.  “All right, Lou?” he asked.  Louis blinked, trying to figure out how Harry had gone from debauching him in an alleyway to being inside, with Zayn, and how it was that he felt so thoroughly wrecked and Harry looked so completely unruffled.  And also, had Harry been wearing that jumper?    
  
The only reasonable explanation seemed to be that Louis had completely and utterly lost his mind.  “Yeah.  Fine.  I’ll be right in.”  
  
***  
  
They were changing after the show when Liam noticed the marks on Louis’ neck.  “Uh, Lou, you’ve got - something - here,” he said, vaguely gesturing to his own neck, before his face erupted into a blush that would have made a tomato look pale in comparison.  Liam - forever tactful, God Bless him.  
  
Louis had tried his best to hide them - wearing turtlenecks and scarves and every other fashion faux pas he wouldn’t normally be caught dead in.  It wasn’t except in the privacy of his own bathroom that he dared to look at himself in the mirror, pressing down on the bruises until he winced.   _It had been real, hadn’t it?_ It wasn’t as if he’d put love bites on his  _own_ bloody neck, was it?  
  
“Didn’t know Eleanor was in town,” Zayn said, off-handedly from inside the sweat-soaked shirt he was struggling out of.  
  
“She...uh, she hasn’t been,” Louis said, trying to meet Harry’s eyes across the room, where he was toeing off his trainers.  Harry glanced up when he realized Louis was watching him and gave him an effortless smile, while Louis was thoroughly and quietly demolished inside.  There was nothing in Harry’s eyes or his easy demeanor to suggest he knew anything about it.  Had Louis meant so little to him?  Or was he embarrassed of him?  
  
“Tomlinson, you dog,” Niall snickered.  He pulled Louis’ closer by his unbuckled belt.  “Let’s get a look at them, then.”  
  
Louis tried helplessly to shrug out of Niall’s embrace, but it was near impossible to escape Niall’s clutches once he’d made his mind up about something.  “Who is she?” Niall ragged on him.  
  
“No one.”  
  
“Come on Louis.  Be a lad and tell us.”  
  
“S’nothing to tell.  And wasn’t...a _she_ ,” Louis mumbled, tearing away from Niall.  Harry froze as he was taking off his trousers.  _Ah, a reaction at last_ , although not quite the one Louis had expected.  He’d thought Harry would look a bit smug considering, but if anything, Harry looked surprised by his revelation.  But that couldn’t be right, could it?  Considering he’d been the one to leave those marks on Louis in the first place?  
  
“Who is he?  Do we know him?” Niall asked giddily.    
  
“If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to say,” Liam said diplomatically.  
  
“Don’t want to say yet.  Not sure how he feels about me,” Louis said, looking meaningfully at Harry.  Harry glanced away, red spreading across his bare chest like a drop of blood diffusing in a glass of milk.  
  
“Well, from the state of your neck, I’d say quite a bit,” Zayn teased.  
  
“And that’s just his neck!” Niall burst out, jokingly making for Louis’ pants.  Harry turned his back to them as they dissolved into a full on wrestling match and Louis’ heart fell a little.  Well, a lot.  
  
***  
  
The third time, Harry made tacos.   Louis was starving and he could smell them from his room, but he refused to budge out of principal.  Well, partly out of principle and mostly because Louis knew he was weak.  One bite of those tacos, one look from Harry and he’d be lost.  No, Louis wasn’t going to break.  He would be safe as long as he didn’t ever,  _ever_ leave his room.  He had movies and television and books in his room and that was all he really needed, right?  He’d done perfectly fine - made it through twenty-one years without kissing Harry, surely he could stand a few more.  
  
What he didn’t count on was Harry coming in.  There was a soft knock at the door and Louis shrank deeper into his duvet, wondering if he should fake being asleep.  But Harry’s voice when it called his name was so soft and so sweet, Louis’ resistance quickly crumbled.  “Come in,” he said, with fake cheerfullness he didn’t feel.  
  
Harry shuffled in, carrying a goddamn tea-tray loaded down with tacos and wearing a shy smile and the stupid pajamas Louis’ mum had bought them both.  Louis melted.  
  
“You didn’t come to dinner.  Thought you might be hungry,”  Harry said, shyly ducking his head.  
  
Harry’s hands were shaking badly and it made the dishes rattle on the tray as he set it down on Louis’ bedside table.  He sat on the very edge of the bed, as if Louis were contagious.  Louis couldn’t bear anymore of this shy, shuffling politeness.  Not when he wanted to rip Harry’s clothes right off his stupid, perfect body, not when he wanted to snog him into oblivion.    
  
Maybe Harry _was_ playing a game with him, maybe he wanted to make Louis so crazy that Louis would throw caution to the wind at last and make the first move, admit just how badly he needed Harry, had _always_ needed him, even before the kissing. Although, admittedly, that had been a pleasant side effect.  
  
“Harry?” Louis asked, slowly.  Harry turned to face him, his eyes large and guileless.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Thanks,” Louis said and then he kissed him.    
  
Their lips touched and it was different than the first two times, although Louis couldn’t say exactly why.  Harry’s lips _felt_ different - softer somehow, the pressure less insistent and more explorative.  Harry’s previous kisses had felt like he was staking a claim on Louis, marking his territory, but this, _this_ felt like a surrender.  Maybe it was because Harry had been the aggressor the first few times, maybe it was because Louis had caught him off guard, but it felt different,  _better_ than the other kisses they’d shared.  Harry was loose and breathless and limp in Louis’ arms and Louis liked this new turn of event, liked wresting control from Harry, because Harry had made him feel so out of control, so helpless and confused and alone in this.  
  
Harry moved to pull back, but Louis secured him with a hand curled around the back of his neck, forcing his tongue past Harry’s pursed lips.  Harry yielded to him, let Louis explore his mouth in lazy, but controlled strokes.  And God, was it Louis’ imagination, or did Harry even smell different somehow - more like honeyed apple than citrus?  Harry even _felt_ different beneath him - his chest heaving, his heart beating madly, his waist a bit smaller, his shoulders a bit broader than Louis remembered.  And when Louis tugged down the neck of Harry’s t-shirt and licked along the curling wingspan of Harry’s sparrow tattoo, Harry let out a little whimpering exhale that Louis would have remembered hearing, because it damn near destroyed him.  
  
When Louis at last released him, Harry’s face was a pleasing shade of red, his mouth open and wet, his pupils blown-wide and hazy.  He looked wrecked.  He looked the way Louis imagined he’d looked the first few times Harry had kissed him - completely undone.  
  
“What - what - was that for?” he managed.  
  
“For the tacos,” Louis said sarcastically.  
  
“O-okay,” Harry stood up, stumbling a bit before he righted himself, tugging his clothes back into place with shaking hands.  He was halfway out the door when he turned, as if he’d forgotten something.  
  
“Have we - we haven’t - have we done that before?”  He wavered slightly on his feet and for a second, looked in real danger of passing out.  
  
Louis stared at Harry in disbelief, but Harry was so genuine, in the way only Harry  _could_ be - every emotion he was feeling like a tattoo across his skin, advertising his most private thoughts.  “Have banged your head?”  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“Have you got selective amnesia or something?” Louis asked.  
  
“No.  But - we did - we have done that?  Before?”  
  
Louis nodded slowly.  “Right.  Okay,” Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and walked out, leaving Louis even more perplexed than before.  He wanted to be properly angry with Harry, _knew_ he should be angry at Harry, for toying with his emotions this way, for making him feel things he’d never felt before,  _scary_ things, and for making him feel them alone, but he just couldn’t.  
  
***  
  
Louis called Eleanor, but she was busy revising and he didn’t really have anything to say to her, not anything he could have spoken aloud.  What could he have said anyway?   _I think I’m gay? I think I’m in love with Harry?  I’m sorry, but I cheated on you?  I feel like my whole world’s been tipped upside down?_   They spoke only very briefly - about trivial things - he asked after her family and about her exams and may have even made some small-talk about the weather near the end, in an excruciating last-ditch effort at conversation.    
  
When Eleanor finally begged off, Louis should have felt relieved, but illogically he felt worse.  He didn’t want to talk to Eleanor.  He wanted to talk to Harry, his best mate, the way he did when anything important happened, but Harry had made it more than clear he didn’t want to talk to Louis.    
  
Louis ate the tacos Harry had left and then continued the Inbetweeners marathon he’d been watching before Harry had come in, determined to put it out of his mind.  If Harry could forget it so easily, then he could too, right?  
  
Of course, this was a mite harder than it should have been with Harry having a screaming match in the kitchen.  Louis had never heard Harry raise his voice to anyone before, not even people who probably deserved it in Louis' opinion, people who asked him rude, prying questions about his sex-life, about his family. Who was he yelling at?  Was he off his head?  
  
Louis slowly opened his door and tiptoed out into the hall, the voices getting louder as he approached.  
  
“You can’t just snog whoever you like!” Harry shouted.  
  
“Well, you certainly weren’t taking advantage,” the other voice replied, calmly, smoothly.  “Besides, he’s right fit.  Seems a shame to let it go to waste.”  
  
“I know he’s right fit!” Harry screamed, his voice verging on hysterical.  “I’m the one who  _told_ you he was right fit.”  
  
“I don’t understand what you’re getting so worked up about,” the other voice said.   _Where had Louis heard it before?_   “We all have a bit of fun and no one got hurt.”  
  
“Louis did.”  Louis stiffened.  He’d never heard Harry talk about him - good or bad, and it made him feel all the worse for eavesdropping.  He shouldn’t be listening.  He shouldn’t, but -  
  
“ _Louis_ is getting hurt.  Because while you’ve been snogging his face of all week, I’ve been acting as if nothing’s happened."  
  
 _That’s it._ Louis was going in.  And shite, if he thought that would clear up anything was he ever wrong.    
  
Louis glanced back and forth between them - Harry and Harry? - and Oh God, he really was losing his mind wasn’t he?  “You’re - you -” he sputtered, looking from one to the other.  
  
“Lou, I can explain,” Harry or quite possibly Harry said.  
  
“I think I need to sit,” Louis said and not seeing a seat in the immediate vicinity, he dropped to the floor.  He buried his face in his hands, afraid to raise his head, afraid that they'd still be standing there - the _two_ of them. “I’m losing my mind, aren’t I?”  
  
“I know how it looks.  Lou, this is Ed,” Harry said, gesturing toward his look-alike.  “He’s my twin brother.”  
  
"Twin - Twin -" Louis repeated, realizing he was babbling but unable to stop doing so.  
  
“Hey,” Ed nodded at him.  “We’ve met,” he smirked.  And that’s when it _really_ hit Louis - he’d been snogging Harry’s twin.  All this time.  He’d been snogging a complete and utter stranger with Harry’s face on.  Louis had let him into the house!  He’d - he’d - kissed him!  He’d gotten a hard-on!  Louis tried to keep from descending into a panic attack, but it was getting harder and harder with Harry on one side, looking concerned and Ed, on the other looking self-satisfied.  
  
“You have - you have a twin brother?”  
  
Harry sighed.  “Yeah.  And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.  It’s just...it’s complicated and I’ve tried to bring it up, but it never seemed the right time.”  
  
“Before he put his tongue in my mouth would have been good,” Louis lashed out, not really sure who he was angry at - Ed for snogging him under false pretenses, Harry for lying to him or himself for being such a colossal idiot.  
  
Had there been hints - times Harry had been about to say something but stopped himself? Times Louis had looked at papped pictures of Harry and wondered where he'd gotten that shirt or started to hang out with that girl?  The thing that really blew Louis' mind was that Harry had always seemed so transparent to him, an open book only his best friend knew how to read.  How could he have missed something so glaring, so obvious, so crucial?  What’s more, how could Harry have kept this from him? Deliberately?  
  
Harry ran his hands back raggedly through his hair.  “I deserved that.  Ed, can you - can we talk about this later?  I need a moment alone with Louis.”  
  
Ed shrugged, dropping a knowing wink at Louis as he strolled out that made Louis shudder all over.  He felt wrong, he felt dirty, he felt used.  And worst – after that kiss on his bed, he’d begun to think Harry actually had feelings for him, not that he was just reciprocating because he thought it was Louis wanted.  
  
Harry waited until his brother was out of sight before sinking to the floor beside Louis, putting a hand on his knee.  “I’m so sorry.  I’d no idea.”  
  
“How could you keep something like this from me?  I thought we were friends!” Louis was humiliated.  He’d been kissed by a complete stranger and pined over Harry for weeks.  He’d thought he was losing his mind or that Harry was losing his.  He’d assumed (wrongly) that Harry told him everything because  _he_ told Harry everything.  What a mess – what an awful, awful mess.  
  
“It’s,” Harry chewed his lip so hard blood welled up to the broken skin.  “I was embarrassed.”    
  
Louis couldn’t remember Harry ever being embarrassed about anything.  He’d spent most of his time in the X-Factor house completely starkers, had been the first to jump in the pool at his step-dad’s bungalo naked, laughed along with the others when they teased him for having a hard-on (unlike Louis who became defensive and overly sensitive).  Harry had always been headstrong and fearless, always the first to jump, never one to do things halfway.  What did Harry have to be _embarrassed_ about?  
  
“Of having a brother?  It’s hardly cause for - ”    
  
Harry’s brow furrowed.  “My parent’s divorce - it was partly, well  _mostly_ , because of Ed and I.”  
  
“Harry, you can hardly blame yourself.”  
  
“No.  I can.  You don’t understand.”  Harry shook his head, tears springing quickly and unexpectedly to his eyes in a way that made Louis frightened, that made him not want to know, that made him want to go back - to the twinless Harry he thought he knew, to the way things used to be.  
  
“Whatever you guys did Harry, I’m sure - ”  
  
“We fucked each other,” Harry blurted out, his cheeks flaming as soon as he’d said it.  He buried his face in his arms and when Louis reached over to touch his shoulder, he flinched.  When Harry looked up again, his face was red and blotchy and streaked with tears.  He looked downright miserable and if Louis hadn’t been so shocked, he would have already been holding him.  But it was a bit much for anyone, wasn’t it?  Here’s my secret twin brother I never told you about and oh, we’re fucking as well?  
  
“I was just - I was so ashamed,” Harry croaked, his voice breaking on the words.  “I didn’t want you to think differently of me.”  
  
“What - How- ”  
  
“I don’t know.  It just happened.  At first, we were just young and curious – we wanted to see if we looked the same  _everywhere_ ,” he blushed.  “But then it felt so good we didn’t want to stop, _couldn’t_ stop - And then my dad caught us - I’ve never seen him so angry,” Harry trembled.  “It was the only time he ever hit me.  After that mum asked him to leave.  Dad took Ed and mum kept me.”  
  
“Harry-” Louis said gently, because even though he was shocked, it was obvious Harry was torn up about it.  Who wouldn’t be?  Being ripped from your best friend, your brother, during your formative years would be a lot for anyone, and Harry had never been shy about needing people.  He thrived on affection, only got through the bad days because of little, reassuring pats and tickles from the other boys.  What must it have been like – in that house alone after Ed left, after his dad left, because of them?  
  
“I was just so devastated.  Mum suggested I try out for X-Factor, to gain some independence, get my mind off of things with Ed.  And it worked for a while because...well, because I met you.  And you made me feel like I could be normal, like I could have a real relationship with someone that wasn’t related to me.”  
  
“Harry-”  
  
“No, I _want_ to say it.  I loved you Louis, from the very start.  I thought you felt the same, but then you and Eleanor got together and I -  I was just so lonely and then Ed moved here for Uni and I told him about you, about how I felt for you - and I guess he got jealous and I’ve...I’ve made a right mess of things, haven’t I?  I don’t see how you can possibly forgive me,” Harry sobbed, putting his face back in his hands.  
  
Louis knew that what Harry was saying was important, something he should listen to, but he couldn’t help it.  The only words he’d heard were " _I loved you Louis"_ and everything after had descended into white noise and nothingness because Harry - _Harry_ \- loved him.  “ _Loved_.  You said _loved_. Past tense.  Do you still-”  
  
Harry’s face crumpled.  “Louis, don’t make this harder than it already is.”  
  
“I’m not trying to.  The thing is -” Louis took a deep, steadying breath, “the thing is - I love  _you_.  Right now.  Not past tense.  And not the you I thought I was snogging all these weeks, but the you that kissed me today.  Harry, you’re incredible and I’m the one who’s made a mess of things, for not realizing it sooner.”  
  
Harry smiled through his tears.  “Seriously?  You’re not just having it on?”  
  
“Seriously.”  
  
Harry frowned.  “The thing is - Ed and I are sort of a package deal, at the moment.  I’ve never really been with anyone but him and I can’t just - leave him alone, after everything.”  
  
“Yeah, okay.”  
  
“I don’t think you understand what you’re agreeing to -”  
  
“I said it was okay.  Com’mere,” Louis pulled Harry a hug.  “It’s okay. Just let me sort things out with Eleanor first.  Then we’ll talk.  The three of us.”  
  
***  
  
When Louis came home from Manchester, Harry was sauteing vegetables for dinner and Ed was slumped over the center island, idly flipping through a magazine.  They both turned their heads to him at once, their startlingly synchronized movements reminding Louis of prairie dogs for some reason. Louis still hadn’t gotten used to it - seeing the gestures and expressions he’d once thought unique to Harry, repeated by Ed.  He’d grown up with twin sisters, so it wasn’t as alarming as it could have been, but he’d gotten quite used to the idea of  _one_ Harry - one boy with a golden smile and disarming dimples and flyaway hair, and it was overwhelming sometimes being around two of them.  
  
There were differences between them of course - Harry’s tattoos being the most prominent - so Louis was at least able to distinguish them, now that he  _knew_ there were two of them.  
  
It had been a whole week since Harry’s revelation and since then, nothing had happened between any of them.  Louis had wanted to talk to Eleanor first, and to get to know Ed a bit more before they jumped into anything, which seemed reasonable to everyone.  Ed had started coming round their flat more and at first it had been awkward - a territorial war over who got to sit closer to Harry, who commanded his attention most, but over time they’d come to a sort of silent agreement to share him.  
  
Louis had to admit, it was more than a little sexy - the idea of Harry and Ed together, mirroring each other, and the idea of the two of them wanting  _him_ \- _together_ , but so far, it was _just_ an idea.  Beyond some cuddling on the couch after dinner, the brothers had been relatively chaste around him and each other.  Harry had even been sleeping in his own bed and Ed when he stayed, took the couch.    
  
While their arrangement kept any unnecessary jealousies from arising, the side effect was that Louis was in a near constant state of debilitating arousal.  Seeing the two of them walking around the house in just their pants, seeing Ed step out of their bathroom – all wet torso and long legs and come-fuck-me eyes with one of Harry’s red towels slung low over his hips, seeing Harry take a lick of ice-cream off of Ed’s spoon, had Louis’ head in a fog. If he didn’t know Harry better, he’d say he was doing it on purpose, but then Harry had always been naked, Louis had just never chosen to acknowledge it, to admit just how much it turned him on.  
  
Louis hadn’t wanked so much since he was thirteen years old and when Harry noticed he was walking a bit crooked, each touch of his pants against his oversensitized cock a small agony, he’d handed him a bottle of lube without having to be asked.  “Just save a bit for us, yeah?” he’d winked in a way that made Louis have to go use the lube right away, with his door shut, on his knees, pants bunched around his ankles.  He wondered if Harry had something for carpet burn as well?  
  
“How did it go?” Harry asked, automatically pouring Louis a glass of wine.  
  
Louis frowned as he took a sip.  “She said she had guessed as much.  The first person I tell I’m gay and she says she’s guessed as much.  And then she asked if it was you,” Louis said, gazing at Harry pointedly.  
  
Harry’s lip quirked up.  “So what’d you say?”  
  
“That it’s always been you,” Louis whispered, slinging an arm around Harry’s waist.  Harry set his spoon down to return Louis’ hug and before long, Ed was joining in - Louis sandwiched between the twins.  
  
“I’m proud of you,” Harry murmured into Louis’ hair.  
  
“Does this mean we can properly snog you now?” Ed asked, pressing his lips to the back of Louis’ neck in a way that made Louis’ hips jerk forward into Harry’s.  
  
“Oi, supper’s burning!” Harry squealed, breaking free of the hug.  Louis and Ed dissolved in laughter.

After a dinner of slightly overcooked vegetables and a mostly salvaged lemon chicken, Louis retreated to his room to take a shower.  He’d had a long day - even if his coming out had been rather anticlimactic, and he took his time in the shower, shaving his face (and a few other places) and standing for a long time under the shower-spray, letting the week wash over him.  He was proud of himself for breaking things off with Eleanor before anything had happened for real between him and Harry.  He was proud for admitting to Harry how he felt, but most of all, he was proud because he had looked his fear in the face and said the words: “I’m gay” and he had survived.  And all the multitude of bad things Louis had envisioned happening had not happened and Harry loved him and Louis was the same Louis he’d always been, only better, less afraid.

When Louis finally emerged from the bathroom, pink-skinned and well-scrubbed, Ed and Harry were lying on his bed watching TV in their pajamas.    
  
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Louis said dryly.  He’d long ago gotten used to the fact that Harry had absolutely no sense of personal space, of boundaries (at least not with him).  He knew when they moved in together, he would be giving up on privacy, but it was a bit much with two of them – wearing his clothes, eating his food, lying on his bed as if it belonged to them.  
  
“Oh, we plan to,” Ed laughed.  When Louis walked toward his wardrobe to get his pajamas, Ed jumped up and stood in his way.  
  
“Come on, stop fooling around,” Louis groaned, trying to walk around him.  
  
“Who’s fooling?” Ed smirked, pinning Louis’ wrists to his sides.  
  
And then Harry was behind Louis, gripping his hips and pressing whisper-soft kisses into the back of his neck that would have made Louis’ knees buckle if he weren’t book-ended by the both of them.    
  
“We want to take you to bed, if that’s okay,” Harry said softly, his breath tickling Louis’ hair.  
  
Louis swallowed.  He hadn’t anticipated things would come to a head quite this quickly.  He’d envisioned a few more weeks of sexual frustration and wanking and unrequited lust.  He’d only just wrapped his mind around the fact that there were _two_ of them for Christ’s sake.  
  
Still, it didn’t seem wrong or forced and when Ed tugged at the knot of his towel and it fell to the floor, Louis didn’t even reach for it.  
  
“Oops,” Ed grinned wickedly, his eyes raking hungrily over Louis’ naked form.  
  
***  
  
The fourth time, Ed kissed Louis for the third time and Harry kissed him for the second time.  
  
Ed kissed Louis’ mouth with more teeth than tongue and Harry kissed his way along Louis’ neck.  Harry’s hands joined in - alternately at Louis waist and his hips and palming his ass thoughtfully as if testing a grapefruit, which prompted a very unmanly squeak to escape from Louis.    
  
Ed was far more aggressive than Harry - taking what he wanted without apology, whereas Harry was all softness and asking and gentle sweetness. Consequently, Louis felt as if he would simultaneously melt and combust.  
  
They somehow managed to stumble over to the bed without breaking apart - together forming a new animal - with six hands and three mouths - sucking and seeking and groping and exploring.  Louis had never felt as loved or as secure or as  _wanted_ as he did between the two of them, the cherished object of their dual affections.    
  
“Lie down,” Harry instructed and Louis complied, watching in awe as Harry and Ed stripped their shirts off, ruffling their twin curls.  
  
They paused to hungrily kiss over him and Louis throbbed with desire.  It was amazing seeing them together – the symmetry of their sinews and muscles working in conjunction, the beautiful, almost architectural line of Ed’s shoulders and back, the tight, sharp divots of Harry’s hips where Ed pressed his thumbs hard enough to raise welts.  Louis marveled that even when they turned their attentions on each other, it seemed to be a private show for his benefit - like made-to-order porn.  
  
He almost didn’t mind that they weren’t paying attention to him -  _almost_.  But then, Harry was hovering over him, branding his body with soft, hot, occasionally wet kisses.  And Ed’s hand, slippery with lube from the bedside table, was gripping Louis’ cock hard – hard enough for him to cry out, only to be silenced by the reassuring warmth of Harry’s mouth on his.  Everywhere Ed pressed a bruise, Harry followed with a kiss, everywhere Ed left a love-bite Harry followed with a lick, until Louis was an absolute wreck.  
  
It was almost embarrassing how quickly Louis was being brought to orgasm.  Ed and Harry weren’t even out of their pajama bottoms yet, though the fronts were tented obscenely, and he was already ready to burst.    
  
“Please,” he gasped, reduced to speaking in single syllables as he palmed Harry’s dick through the heavy flannel.  “These.  Off.”  
  
Harry laughed, but obliged, and while Louis was watching him undress, Ed slipped his pants off too.  “Oh God,” he stared back and forth between them.  “You’re both…gorgeous.”  
  
“And you’re beautiful,” Harry smiled, pressing a fond kiss to Louis’ hair.  “You too,” he assured Ed, stroking his cheek tenderly.  
  
“Narcissist,” Ed said, sticking out his tongue at Harry.  
  
Louis reached up and pulled them both down onto the bed, growling impatiently.  “We’re all beautiful.  Now, can we fuck?”  
  
Ed laughed, but the laugh died in his throat as Louis raked his nails down the boy’s sides, raising livid red stripes across his porcelain skin.  Ed bit his shoulder in retaliation and Harry, not one to be ignored, drew Louis’ lips to his own in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.    
  
Somewhere along the way, Louis got rolled over onto his side, effectively trapped between Harry and Ed.  Harry’s dick rutted up against Louis’ hip and Ed’s cock, slippery with precum, slid between Louis’ cheeks in a way that made him shiver all over.  
  
“I want to taste you,” Harry insisted, after a few more stuttering thrusts of his hips.  Louis wanted to insist that Harry  _was_ tasting him – had been tasting him all this time – tasting his lips, his skin, but that was nothing,  _nothing_ compared to the feeling of Harry’s mouth sliding down over his dick, white-hot, wet heat enveloping his senses.  
  
Louis tried to keep a clear head, because he wanted to remember every moment of his first time, _their_ first time together, but it was difficult with Harry licking his dick and Ed licking his oh -  _oh_ , Louis had never been licked  _there_.  
  
Harry was soon deep-throating Louis for all he was worth, red lips wrapped snugly around Louis’ straining shaft.  Louis pushed Harry away with a shuddering sob.  “Just…I need a minute.”  He rolled his face over into the pillow, muffling his pants into it.  “The two of you are a bit much.”  
  
Harry smirked as he moved his mouth to Ed’s dick and Louis watched in fascination as Harry’s cheeks hollowed out around his twin.  Ed threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair, forcing himself deeper into Harry’s throat.  To his credit, Harry took it all like a champion, gazing up at Ed and then Louis, seemingly for approval.  He was so gorgeous – with his wild hair and his big, watery green eyes and his lips puffed and swollen around his brother’s erection - that Louis moaned aloud and began to stroke himself – just lightly enough to keep himself on edge.  He didn’t want to cum – not _yet_ – not without one of them inside him.  
  
In the low light of Louis’ bedroom the twins’ bodies were nearly indistinguishable - just one long line of undulating muscle and sweat and saliva slick skin.  Ed cupped the back of Louis’ head, kissing him lazily as Louis stroked himself.  Louis was so focused on the heat of Ed’s mouth and the wet sounds of Harry’s sucking and the feeling of his own hand, that he didn’t hear Ed uncap the lube once more.    
  
But he certainly perked to attention when Ed’s long, greased index finger pushed it’s way into him, curling round to stroke the tight nut of his prostate in a way that made Louis’ whole body quake.  When their mouths broke apart, connected by a glistening strand of saliva, Louis gasped wretchedly.    
  
“Please.  I need more.  Inside.  I need,” he sobbed incoherently.  Harry lifted his mouth off of Ed’s dick to watch Louis twist, arching his back off the sweat-damp sheets to force Ed’s knuckles deeper inside him.    
  
“Harry, please—” Louis begged, not quite knowing what he was asking for, but sure he’d found it when Harry’s finger joined Ed’s inside him, stretching him, reducing him to a quivering mess.  
  
“You’re doing great,” Harry said softly, using his free hand to stroke Louis.  
  
“Yeah, Harry couldn’t take nearly this much his first time,” Ed chimed in, as he pushed another finger into Louis alongside Harry’s.  
  
Louis whined, his eyes rolling back in his head.  “I was thirteen,” Harry said, mock offended.  And  _OhGod_ , the thought of them doing this to each other when they were only thirteen, of Ed taking Harry’s virginity, was almost too much for Louis.  
  
“Please.  I want you to fuck me,” he gasped, reaching out to give Harry’s so-far neglected cock a tug.  A pearl of precum glistened at his tip and Louis rubbed it into Harry’s helmet with his thumb, relishing the blissed-out look on Harry’s face.  Ed continued to finger Louis as Harry lubed himself up.  And Louis knew it was all for his benefit, but it seemed entirely too long when all he wanted was Harry in him, Harry in him  _now_.  
  
“Are you sure?” Harry asked gently, as Ed withdrew his fingers with a sucking pop.  Louis cried out at the loss of them, empty and desperate and needy.  Harry’s greased cock-head teased over Louis’ hole, sending shivers running up his spine, his nerve-endings singing.  
  
“Oh God, just put it in me, Harry,” he snapped.  Harry nodded, his expression serious as he guided himself into Louis.    
  
At first, Louis was worried and tense, his stomach muscles tightened, as if expecting a blow.  Harry was too big - he couldn’t possibly fit all of that in Louis - he would tear him apart.  But then Ed was kissing Louis gently and lazily tugging his dick and he relaxed a bit, so that both his shoulders were resting flat on the mattress.  Harry edged in slowly, and at first Louis was glad of it, because it allowed him to adjust, but then he grew exasperated and grabbed Harry’s ass and drew him all the way in.  
  
Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back, revealing the long, smooth column of his white throat, thoroughly debauched with love-bites.  He shuddered and Louis felt Harry’s dick give a corresponding twitch deep inside him.  
  
“Harry—” he said, a bit breathlessly, and then Harry began to push into him in earnest.  Ed helped move Louis’ leg up and the shift in position caused Harry to hit his prostate and if Louis had known it felt like this, he would have made Harry fuck him ages ago.  
  
“Hazza – Oh God, Hazza—”  
  
Ed smirked, stroking himself as he watched his twin push into Louis.  Harry drew Ed into a kiss and the visual of the two of them kissing and the sensation of Harry hitting the same sensitive spot in Louis over and over again was too, too much.  
  
“Hazz – I’m gonna –” The twins pulled apart in time to see Louis erupt in an arc across his chest.  The sensation of Louis tightening around Harry as he came proved too much and Harry’s orgasm took him by surprise, tearing through him like a freight-train as several spurts were dragged out of him, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching and balls drawn tight to his body.  
  
Ed pulled himself frantically and was soon spunking all over Louis’ face and pink, open mouth.  Louis took it and liked it and didn’t object when Harry leaned down and licked his cheeks and eyelids clean like a cat.  
  
They collapsed in a sweaty, exhausted heap on the mattress, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they struggled to catch their breath. Harry gently eased his cock from Louis, who winced at the hollow feeling left behind.    
  
Louis couldn’t stop shaking, his whole body racked with minor tremors in the aftermath of his orgasm.  Harry and Ed held him through the worst of it and then Louis was sobbing and Harry was gazing into his face with concern.  
  
“Are you all right?  Did I hurt you?” The pained worry on Harry’s face was unbearable and Louis swiped at his tears angrily with the back of his hand.  
  
“No – I just – I’m really overwhelmed,” he said, his voice wrecked.  
  
“It’s okay.  We’ve got you,” Ed said softly, his arms tightening around Louis’ waist as he nuzzled his chin into the valley between Louis’ shoulder and neck.  
  
“I didn’t know – I didn’t know it could feel like this –”  
  
Harry smiled softly, dragging his fingers so lightly over Louis’ side that it started him up shivering again.  Between their bodies, Louis’ dick gave a twitch of renewed interest and Harry bit his lip.    
  
He stroked Louis’ face gently, staring deep into his eyes.  “I really love you, Lou.”  
  
“I love you too, Harry,” Louis said, a bit weepily. Ed shifted back a little on the mattress, almost imperceptibly, and Louis reached for him without thinking.  “You too, Ed.  I love the both of you.”  
  
Ed’s teeth sank into Louis’ shoulder blade in response, which Louis supposed was his way of saying, “I love you too”.  Louis’ body jerked in surprise, his hips pitching forward against Harry’s.  Harry’s dick was still red and engorged between their pressed bodies and Ed’s was already twitching back to life against Louis’ sore bottom.  
  
Louis was starting to get the feeling it was going to be a very long night, maybe even a very long rest of his life.  But for now, he was content – nestled between them, the boy he loved and the boy he never knew he loved curled around him like parentheses.    
  
(He wished they would kiss him forever.  He wished they would never stop.)


End file.
